


Does anybody know what we are looking for?

by CadetDru



Series: The Arc of an Archangel [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Fallen Angels, Guess falling makes you change genders, He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), Post-Canon, Pre-Canon: Good Omens, even Crowley doesn't know if he remembers falling or not, spoilers for my story in my tags, they/them pronouns for Raphael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:06:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22583758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CadetDru/pseuds/CadetDru
Summary: The second time that Aziraphale was invited to run off to Alpha Centauri, he said "no" because it was unthinkable to leave the Earth behind, best friend or no best friend.(The first time, he didn't think it could be a seduction attempt from an archangel because most aspects of that hadn't been invented yet.)The third time that Aziraphale was invited to run off to Alpha Centauri, by the same occult force as always, he said "yes" because the Earth was saved and he'd been promised a picnic.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Raphael (Good Omens)
Series: The Arc of an Archangel [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640089
Comments: 4
Kudos: 107





	1. Empty spaces, what are we living for?

The second time that Aziraphale was invited to run off to Alpha Centauri, he said "no" because it was unthinkable to leave the Earth behind, best friend or no best friend. He couldn't abandon everything to just go off somewhere with Crowley.

The first time he was invited, he said yes and there was no Earth or best friend yet. There hadn't been the war between the angels forever and the angels who fell. All was right in Heaven and what would be Earth. The stars and everything that would ever exist were being formed, archangels working their best and magnetically terrifying the lower angels.

Aziraphale was far below any such being. He mostly tried to stay out of their way. He didn't want to be a bother, didn't want to be underfoot. So how, he didn't seem to manage that. 

“You there!” the golden angel said, snapping their fingers towards Aziraphale. Everyone was gold, but this one had golden eyes and gold tips to their wings and just shone in a way that seemed so different from even the other archangels.

“I beg your pardon?” Aziraphale said, remembering that he should respond in what passed for verbal communication. 

“Hi, yes, sorry, what's the name?” the archangel said, snapping their fingers. 

“Aziraphale.”

“Aziraphale,” the golden angel said. “Right. Listen, are you busy right now?”

“Not particularly,” Aziraphale admitted. He couldn't ask the archangel for their name, but a precedent had been set for needing to ask. Aziraphale knew their name. Aziraphale knew exactly who he was talking to, but he didn't know why.

“Perfect! I've got this detail I'm trying to get right and I just need an outside set of eyes. Divine inspiration strikes, and here you are.” 

“You want me to look at one of your works in progress?” Aziraphale said, trying to comprehend the very idea.

“Yes! Please. No pressure or anything, just looking for a quick look followed by a head nod or shake. I'm worried I haven't got the color scheme quite right.”

“I'm sure it's marvelous," Aziraphale said, gushing unnecessarily for the first time.

“Come and take a look?” the archangel said, waving one perfect hand in the direction they wanted Aziraphale to go. 

“Oh, absolutely.” Aziraphale was too eager, but he didn't care. 

Aziraphale was led to the model that was simultaneously a galaxy. The two of them were hanging in space in a way that didn't quite make sense. It was smaller and bigger than it should have been. They were waiting within a projection that was also reality.

“Well?” the archangel asked. They were clearly proud of it. 

“It's very… cold.” He could feel it on what would be skin one day. 

“Space is meant to be cold, apparently.”

“Surely the star would be warm. But the colors… the light… it all still seems cold from the distance you've shown me.”

“But does it **work**?”

"If that's the intended effect, then absolutely. If you wanted it to be a great roaring inferno, then not at all." It wasn't the first time Aziraphale was sarcastic, just the first with this particular audience of one. It wouldn't be the last. It wasn't a safe choice, verging into insubordinate, but he got away with it. 

"Thank you."

"Those stars do seem complicated. Do you really need that many?"

"Style," the archangel said. The sinuous way they spread their arms confused Aziraphale. No one else moved like that. "These two stars are joined together. She wants the humans to pair off like this. Assuage their loneliness, make more little humans, things like that."

"So, this is meant to inspire them?"

The golden archangel shrugged, hooding their golden eyes as they ducked their head. "They might never see it. I made it for me."

Aziraphale thought back to this simple confession later more often than he cared to admit. This wasn't how these things worked. His own reaction remained confusing, even as he gained more understanding of the golden intent. He wondered what feelings it had awakened in him, if he was the first being to feel that way. "Yes. Well. I… yes. Is that why it has those sort of tendrils snaking out like that?" The tendrils seemed to move the same fluid way that this archangel moved.

"It's a theme," the archangel said, making a show of pretending to be patient. 

"Very effective," Aziraphale offered. 

"You didn't even know what effect I wanted."

"I'm sorry," Aziraphale said. He didn't know what his role was supposed to be. Apparently enthusiastic and blind agreement wasn't good enough. 

"Do you want to see it up close?" the archangel offered. The way they said it would later be classified as "temptingly" but that concept hadn't been fully realized yet. Aziraphale was helping to set so many future rules of attraction in place.

"Can we?" Aziraphale said, meaning to ask if they should. He could feel himself glowing more, experiencing more of what he hoped was Her light. 

The golden one glowed back. "I still need to make some tweaks, and I'll need more direct feedback as I go. Unless you've got somewhere you need to be after all."

"I wouldn't be in the way?"

"I'm asking you, Aziraphale, to come see my work," the archangel said, over-enunciating. 

"You're awfully forward. Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit: they/them for Raphael


	2. Abandoned places, I guess we know the score

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Reject. You are rejecting the archangel Raphael."

Aziraphale didn't know how long they spent traipsing through the archangel's handiwork. It was all so beautiful. He couldn't imagine being blessed enough to have a hand in creating it. He could barely fathom being there. He didn't know why he was there. He was hardly some pet that the archangel could adopt. 

"Is something wrong?" the archangel asked.

"Nothing. Shouldn't we be going back?"

"We could stay here," the archangel offered. They almost seemed sincere. Much later, when the world was ending, they would make the same offer again and their absolute sincerity would frighten Aziraphale just as much. 

Aziraphale laughed to dismiss his anxiety. "I don't think you mean to spend any portion of eternity here with me. I'm hardly fit to be your joined star." 

The archangel didn't laugh. Aziraphale was simply laughing at them, not sharing a joke. Aziraphale was overstepping. His laughter turned more nervous, a tighter sound that squeezed in on itself. Aziraphale stopped. "I'm sorry."

The archangel looked away.

"I mean, you don't… I know that you didn't mean…" Aziraphale sighed without breath. "You haven't even told me your name and I'm presuming to… to…"

"Reject. You are rejecting the archangel Raphael." The words were stiff and cold. 

"I know," Aziraphale said miserably. He had formally been given the name. The pretense of not knowing who he was with was gone. This was someone he had wanted to know better, and now he had gone and ruined it.

Raphael seemed to take pity on him, their golden eyes still shining bright. "I didn't mean any of it like that. I'm just under this deadline and I wanted someone to see this in case I have to get rid of it all. In case She changes Her mind."

"I don't think we should question anything. This is far too beautiful for her to want to destroy.... unless she does."

"There's whispers, you know. Whispers of questions to be asked," the golden one whispered. They gave Aziraphale a sly golden glance. 

"It all has me a little…"

"A little what, Aziraphale?" the archangel said, drawing out his name.

"Worried what might happen to those who reject Her warmth."

"Is there someone specific you're worried about?" the golden one asked, a sour note in their voice that might later be called jealousy. 

"To single anyone out would mean to be questioning their nature."

"And questions are bad, angel?" This was no affectionate nickname, merely a naming of Aziraphale's most basic function. It was a way of taking away his individuality. It was an admonishment for not rising above it. 

"Precisely," Aziraphale said primly.

"So, you'll just tie yourself up in knots and be good and miserable until the world begins and ends."

"Yes, I think that's the best possible course of action," Aziraphale said, sincere in his potential martyrdom despite that being another construct that had not been completed.

"You're ridiculous, you know that," Raphael said. There was no harshness to their tone. They sounded almost pleased with the idea. 

"There will be a War. I'll wield a great weapon and my side will win and I will be rewarded for my great service. -- head shake -- but there doesn't have to be a war. There never have to be any wars, if everyone will just stick to Her Plan."

"But Her Plan seems to ask for wars to be fought. If you resist that, then you'll be going against her anyway. You'd be as good as whoever this other side is."

"I don't want to." Aziraphale mumbled. His words were lost as they left the interior of the model. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit: they/them for Raphael


	3. Another heartache, another failed romance

Aziraphale stood awkwardly, looking from the model to the archangel. Raphael had taken them out of the careful construct they were working on.

He should have been groveling at Raphael's feet. He wasn't fit to groom the archangel's golden wings, et cetera. He didn't feel like doing any of that, so he didn't bother. That indifference must have been Her Will as well. Everything that Aziraphale wanted to do must have fallen into the category of Her Will, as rebellion had not yet been invented. 

"I think you're on the right path," Aziraphale said instead.

"Do you think so?"

"Definitely. I like how much of yourself that you've included." Aziraphale hoped that he was right, that he understood the arrangements of these stars correctly.

"The romantic symbolism of binary stars aside?" There was a sly smile on Raphael's lips. They should have been gold as well, gold to match their eyes.

Aziraphale swallowed quite unnecessarily. "I don't think I'm quite grasping that concept on a fundamental level."

"Would you like for me to show you?" Raphael said, reaching their hand out to Aziraphale.

If Aziraphale had a heart, it would have stopped. If his mouth had saliva, it would have gone dry. If he had a human corporation at all, it would have failed him in most of the ways possible. As it was, he didn't move, didn't take the outstretched hand. "You're so beautiful," he said.

"What," Raphael said flatly. They dropped their hand to their side. Aziraphale would forever wonder if destinies could have changed if he had taken Raphael's hand in that moment. What they could have had, who they could have been together. He could have saved Eve from the apple if he'd stopped Raphael from falling, he could have learned to love an archangel.

"You're beautiful, and I can't picture you in that kind of bond with anyone because your beauty is so complete on its own. Pairing that seems like it would... that it could..."

"That it could?" Raphael prompted.

"Diminish. Cloud. Overshadow." Aziraphale was trying to name something that he didn't understand, a sensation thst kept washing over him. 

"And you think that I should include more of this beauty in these stars." There was no question to their words, just a dulled curiosity. 

"If you like," Aziraphale said, almost dismissively. "I'm not... I won't ever experience that kind of romance firsthand, so I won't ever be able to understand it. I know this about myself. I know my role." Aziraphale hoped he was wrong, but he wasn't lying to Raphael.

Raphael thanked Aziraphale for his time and consideration by brusquely dismissing him with a kiss on what was vaguely a forehead. It didn't quite come off as a dismissal, though. Their lips lingered for a moment, then resumed the air of already being somewhere else. It seemed like an invitation or promise of something more.

"Can I see it again? When it's done?"

"I'll take you there one day," Raphael promised. That was the end of their interlude. It wasn't the last time that they saw one another in Heaven, but it was the last time that Raphael took him into the stars. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit: they/them for Raphael


	4. I have to find the will to carry on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was an archangel who was lonely and wanted Aziraphale's company.

Aziraphale saw Raphael again (and again) but never so intimately. They were friendly. They discussed matters of little to no import. There were no more kisses, no more tours of charming projects. Something had passed, some opportunity had been post that never should have existed in the first place. 

Raphael was still an archangel who was lonely and wanted Aziraphale's company. A beautiful archangel, more beautiful than the rest. Aziraphale would gladly follow them into battle and fight alongside them. It was the only fantasy that was readily available to Aziraphale. He didn't know who they would be fighting.

The golden one went to speak to Lucifer, and that was that. The Fall began, in waves for angels who should have known better. The time for companionate kisses and conversation was behind them. There would be war in Heaven. 

Aziraphale knew that he was still destined to fight with Raphael. The only change was that they would not be on the same side. The Raphael that he had known for such a short time was gone, had been burned away. He didn't know what was left, but he knew that it was nothing that could love like an angel could.

In due time, the battle began. Aziraphale fought valiantly, like he never would again. Those who had Fallen had made their choice, incomprehensible as it was, and they deserved the consequences, incomprehensible as those were.

He bested they-who-had-been-Raphael. The gold was gone, burned to black and yellow; the beauty that Aziraphale had admired was changed but not erased. The fallen angel knelt before Aziraphale. Aziraphale's flaming sword was ready to swing.

At the end of the world, that had not yet begun, they would play out this moment again. At the end of the world, Aziraphale would throw his sword away. When they were in Earth, the former archangel's beauty would be different, would be both more and less accessible and approachable for him.

Aziraphale did not know that this would be played out again, because in the moment he didn't know what to do. 

"End it," the fallen angel hissed. They were still the most beautiful creation that Aziraphale had ever seen. He knew that it was subjective, and that it didn't change what he had to do.

Except it could change what he would do."I won't kill you." Aziraphale didn't drop the sword, still held it there, but neither did he swing it.

" _What_ ," the fallen archangel said flatly.

"I won't… I can't… it isn't Her Will for me to kill you here." Aziraphale didn't believe he could ever harm the being who had bene his Raphael. 

"Fight me, angel." It was another reminder of Aziraphale's function. 

"Never." The fire flashed in Aziraphale's eyes then. "I will never kill you, Raphael."

"Raphael is already dead."

Aziraphale leaned down, kissed the former angel's forehead. This wasn't Raphael any longer, wasn't yet named as a demon. This wasn't someone who Aziraphale should have loved. Aziraphale loved them more now than he had before. 

The fallen one recoiled as if it burned to be touched by an angel. "Destroy me now, angel."

"I can't."

"You must." The fallen angel was still kneeling before Aziraphale. The sword was still above their head, their slender throat and sinuous body. 

"She will forgive the fallen," Aziraphale said. He didn't know it, but he wanted to know it. 

"You don't know that," the burnt creature before him said. 

"She must." Aziraphale put out his hand to help the thing that had been Raphael stand. 

He got a quick if burning kiss to his cheek for his trouble. "I could have loved you," the fallen angel said, a mere whisper near his ear. 

"Then you will get the chance, when she forgives this rebellion," Aziraphale said. He would spend the entirety of human existence regretting this choice of words. At the time, he thought it was very appropriate. 

The fallen angel left. The battle faded away in its own due course. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit: they/them for Raphael


	5. Outside the dawn is breaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You could have sssssstayed, couldn't you?"
> 
> "It wasn't Her Will." And no one had invited him.
> 
> "I'd have stayed if I'd been in your place," the Serpent said.

Aziraphale was never reprimanded for letting a fallen archangel go free. God seemed to be busy with Her Plans beyond the angels, and the archangels didn't want to discuss that one of their own had fallen. Aziraphale was released into the Garden to do some good. It wasn't a reward or a punishment, just his duty.   
  
The Garden was beautiful. It was the most beautiful place in Her Creation. The creatures within it, the humans and their attendant animals were beautiful as well. They still couldn't match the beauty of Raphael. 

Aziraphale recognized the Serpent right away. He connected the dots to the archangel that had been replaced, the golden beauty that had been burned away. He didn't like this form better.

He was glad that the fallen angel was still around, that Aziraphale sparing them had somehow been part of Her Plan. It had to have been, or Aziraphale couldn't have done it. 

It was a fresh start for them both. Raphael was gone, transformed into this. Aziraphale recognized the last traces of them. The eyes still had something of their angelic essence to them. It was best not to think of it. It probably wasn't much better to quietly relish the thought.

Aziraphale didn't think anything of it when the Serpent came to him on one of those first nights in the Garden. Everyone was just milling about, on their guard. The stars were more beautiful from within the Garden than Aziraphale had imagined. Everything was beautiful. 

"I think I helped make thosssssse, angel," the Serpent said.

Aziraphale knew that Raphael had contributed to some of it, but he didn't know how much was still known, how much credit they were still accorded. "I went on a tour of them once," Aziraphale said. "Before they were completed. They're more beautiful, here and now."

"You could have sssssstayed, couldn't you?"

"It wasn't Her Will." And no one had invited him in the end.

"I'd have stayed if I'd been in your place," the Serpent said.

Aziraphale didn't know how to tell him that he had been there, if only as the angel that he had been. Aziraphale didn't know what Falling was like, if it hurt, what it left in place. He didn't want to tear open healing wounds. At the same time, he didn't 

The Serpent stayed coiled near Aziraphale and they watched the stars move as the night faded into dawn. 

"Have a good day, Aziraphale."

"How do you know my name?" Aziraphale said. If he wasn't supposed to know that this was Raphael, then the Serpent who had been Raphael wasn't supposed to know him.

Aziraphale didn't know exactly how giant snakes looked when they were startled, and he would never know for certain, but he was certain that's what he was seeing. "You're _the_ angel here. You're guarding all of this. From me."

Aziraphale felt himself start to form a joking, maybe even flirtatious comment about gladly meeting the Serpent on the field of battle. Then he could only think of Raphael asking mercy of a quick death.

By the time he collected himself, the Serpent was gone. There wasn't even a window for a goodbye kiss. Soon enough, everything fell apart. The Serpent had come to the Garden with a quicker purpose than Aziraphale. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit: they/them for Raphael


	6. Inside in the dark I'm aching to be free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I will walk into Hell for you to make up all that I've done and not done."
> 
> "Yes, and I'll clearly do the same but was that, in fact, a reference to an Alfred Hitchcock movie just then?"

After the End of the World that didn't happen, an angel and a demon rode on a bus that would have a new destination. They sat together, carefully not touching 

"You gave away your sword again," Crowley said, not looking at Aziraphale. Even if he was, his shaded, hooded, concealed eyes wouldn't have given anything away.

"For the best, I think. I've never been able to bring myself to use it properly."

"Failed at pest control in the in Garden for a start," Crowley said. "But, you threatened me."

"Hmm? Oh, yes, I said I'd never speak to you again and you stopped all of time. Well done, Crowley." Aziraphale cleared his throat. "I had to do something. You had to do something. You _know_ I would never use my sword against you." He had promised not to, but he didn't know if Crowley could remember that. 

"You were given it to harm me. Yet, you never seem to do it. That's disobeying Heaven." Crowley's voice was light and lilting. He didn't need to warn about the dangers of Falling.

Aziraphale addressed his concern anyway. "I didn't Fall the first time I did it. Apparently it doesn't count as a rebellion."

"Doesn't it?" Crowley said, his voice a slither in and of itself.

"Apparently not if it's you that I'm sparing. I need you, the world needs you, to keep me in balance." Aziraphale didn't think of Raphael any more. He loved Crowley much more than he'd ever been able to love Raphael, in a much more textured and even human way. He hardly thought of them as being separate, though. Not any more, not after seeing all of the goodness that remained in Crowley. It was almost like when Crowley updated his fashions with the times. Raphael has been one attractive form, but Crowley in tight jeans easily had them beat. Long golden curls couldn't compete with close-cropped scarlet hair. 

"I keep you in balance," Crowley said, drinking from the wine bottle. There were many potential rules for the bus, but Crowley had gone though a lot that day and was in no mood for any rules or consequences. "I don't remember a lot from Heaven. I mean, I remember the war in Heaven. An angel went in, and a demon crawled out. I didn't remember you until after the garden. I don't think I knew you well in Heaven, did I?"

Aziraphale squeaked and thought of things to say that were not a lie. "Not particularly well."

"So you do remember me?" Crowley said, suddenly gleeful at having caught Aziraphale out. "Who was I?" Aziraphale didn't answer. "I remember kneeling before you, asking you to kill me and you wouldn't. You promised me you'd never destroy me. Why?"

"You've never asked me about all this before," Aziraphale said. He didn't want to be the one to bring it up.

"I remembered today. Today you meant it, you could have done it, but back then... You said I could be forgiven. Why would you say that?"

It had been a long day for Aziraphale as well, bounding in and out of corporal and emotional states. He took the bottle of wine out of Crowley's hand. "If an archangel can't be forgiven for asking some questions, what hope was there for any of us?" Aziraphale said helplessly.

Silence fell upon them, settling between them like a heavy fog, separating them from one another. A heartfelt declaration would probably have served the moment better. Crowley had invited Aziraphale back to his place, had declared them to be their own side. Things had been going so well, just them against literally everyone and everything else in the world and beyond. 

They rode on in silence. Aziraphale thought of all the ways that his friend had changed over their many years, the mannerisms that were still there. The path from Raphael to Anthony J. Crowley was bloodied but unbroken. Many a poor sinner had changed their name to start over, that didn't change who they were. They were going to have to choose their faces wisely, but Crowley had always kept the same with only small changes.

The other archangels had to know, didn't care, who Crowley had been. Too many beloved angels had been lost to mourn any specific one. Aziraphale didn't know how they had felt about one another before. They had to still know who he had been. They never mentioned what Aziraphale had done, what he hadn't done. He had been a disappointment in so many other ways as well.

"We need to choose our faces," Aziraphale said, trying to be resolute.

"Oh, and I'll _choose_ to be an archangel again, shall I?" Crowley snarled.

"A principality," Aziraphale corrected, as gently as he could. "You be me, and I'll be you. You face Heaven's punishment for me and I'll face Hell's for you."

"It'll be Holy Water for me," Crowley said. "After..."

"Then it will be hellfire for me. So we should trade places. Criss-cross."

"Is that... are you making a Hitchcock reference?"

Aziraphale ignored the question. "I will walk into Hell for you to make up all that I've done and not done."

"Yes, and I'll clearly do the same but was that, in fact, a reference to an Alfred Hitchcock movie just then?"

"We need to focus."

The bus rolled on, with no more talk about archangels or suspense thrillers. Just logistics.


	7. I'll face it with a grin, I'm never giving in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third time that Aziraphale was invited to run off to Alpha Centauri, by the same occult force as always, he said "yes" because the Earth was saved and he'd been promised a picnic.

The third time that Aziraphale was invited to run off to Alpha Centauri, by the same occult force as always, he said "yes" because the Earth was saved and he'd been promised a picnic. The picnic had been set, they were just trying to identify a venue.

Aziraphale was at Crowley's flat because Crowley wanted to take a post-Armageddon nap. At the same time, Crowley didn't want Aziraphale more than an arm's length away, defenseless against Heaven or Hell or over-eager occultists and their natural enemies. Aziraphale made tea, and wandered through the place, admiring artwork and plant life alike.

"I just wonder what might have been," Aziraphale said, equally to Crowley, the plants, and himself. He was looping his way back to the statue of angels fighting, of good and evil locked in battle.

"If I hadn't fallen?" Crowley asked bitterly. He had disentangled himself from the throne he'd draped himself over. He was staging very close to Aziraphale 

"If I had," Aziraphale said. "What would I have been like?"

"It's not worth thinking about," Crowley said, with a yawn. "Never would have happened, angel. You never even talked to Lucifer."

"Believe me, dear boy, I could have fallen for Raphael. Golden eyes and hair and wings... Raphael moved like liquid gold, like a snake. They were..." Aziraphale sighed. "They just _were_."

"You were that weak, angel? Pair of swaying hips and you'll plunge into the pit?"

"I nearly did, I would say. A day late and a dollar short, isn't that the expression?"

"My first seduction and I wasn't even trying. I'm remembering more, since going back. I noticed your hair and wanted you to look at the stars. They shined like the same color as your hair."

Aziraphale eyed him strangely. "That night in the Garden," he said, making it almost a question with a quaver in his voice.

"I recognized you then. I shouldn't have. I remembered the stars, there in the Garden. The starlight looked just the same color, and I wondered about the cause and effect there. And I remembered making them. I had seen your hair, just the color of the starlight I wanted. I thought, there's a fellow with some aesthetic sensibilities. I'll have him take a look."

"The archangels are always a bit brusque. Raphael snapping their fingers to get art critique didn't seem too out of the norm."

"Here you were, one of the few angels that I could remember, and you had been chosen to defend the garden. You had that flaming sword and that hair. I didn't remember all about the sword until you gave it away. The flame didn't match, didn't suit you."

"I've been to hell and back to redeem _you_ now. I always knew that I would."

"Come to Alpha Centauri with me, angel."

"Binary stars. Joined together to give the humans inspiration."

"I mean it. Let's go there. Run off with me."

The excuses jumped to Aziraphale's mouth, but he only heard himself say "Absolutely." Reality came crashing through his words immediately. "Not to stay or anything. I just want to see the finished work. We can eat when we come back. We can do anything that we like when we come back." He moved quickly to kiss Crowley, on the cheek or temple or whatever he could hastily land on. "You still need some sleep. We'll go when you're ready." 

Crowley laid a hand on his cheek where Aziraphale kissed him. "You'll stay, and we'll go off together?"

Aziraphale kissed him in the lips, lightly. "Yes. Now sleep."


End file.
